As I Age



As I age I have come to the conclusion that I was sold a bill of goods as a young woman and a young woman. This bill of goods was one that I willingly bought and paid for, shelled out those bills and change without a second thought. It was what I thought I was supposed to do.
     Work full time as a young woman, enter the dating pool, swim, float and sink at times. Try and find someone to settle down with, someone that I could embrace their faults and quirks.
Although I was never supposed to show them mine. It was the early 1990’s, and all of us women were supposed to be “perfect.” Never to let them see your flaws, we were one step removed from June Cleaver and Carol Brady.
     I found that person, settled down and married in 1996, yes do the math I will be married 20 years next year. In just over a week I will be married 19 years, the thought still boggles my mind. 19 years and 2 children, 3 dogs and 5 cats later. The woman that walked down that aisle almost 19 years ago was a very different lady from the one writing this post now. She was idealistic, and wide-eyed, and full of wonder about marriage and child rearing. The 19 year married me realizes that those are great qualities but they just don’t cut it in the everyday world.
     My children will only eat vegetables and fruit and meat and whole grains. No candy or junk, yeah right a lollipop soothes the tears of a crying 2 year old, and ice cream, who can live without it? Needless to say the idealism went out the window quick. I was also going to nurse my baby for a year, until the first time, holy ouch and this just doesn’t come naturally. I hated it, to put it mildly, gave it the required 3 months n then went to bottles. Judge me all you want, but I hated being a human cow, and I was a bottle fed baby and  had survived to 28 just fine!!
     As I watch the young girls dress more scantily each day I wonder what they are thinking. That they have to be perfect to fit in, perfect friends, perfect bodies, perfect hair, perfect boyfriend, perfect grades. I want to tell them that perfection is hard to achieve and even harder to maintain. That keeping up the facade of perfection takes a toll that is just not necessary. I want to yell at them, “be yourselves, have fun, don’t worry about that extra pound or that hair out of place. Your true friends won’t care.” Only the ones that are worrying about being perfect will care. Please don’t think I condemn these young girls for attracting the wrong attention by wearing these clothes, that is not where I am going. I just want them to understand that even supermodels don’t look like that without being airbrushed.



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